Barefoot Beach

by Debbie Mason

  Theia turned on her heel and headed in the opposite direction.

  “Did you see that? I guarantee she had something to do with the missing wedding planner and the swans.”

  Marco had a feeling Liam was right and laughed. “You sound like a cranky old lady.” He raised his hand to get Theia’s attention and wave her back to the table.

  “What is wrong with you two? Do you not remember that this woman worked for the same people who are trying to buy the manor out from under us? The same people who were responsible for—”

  “Knock it off. She’s your cousin. She’s doing her best to help out at the manor, and she’s coming back to the table.” It didn’t escape Marco that his relationship with Liam had been his biggest concern about getting involved with a Gallagher. And now that he was, he was more concerned about Theia than his best friend. “Have a little faith in me, man. I know what I’m doing.”

  “I wish I believed that,” Liam grumbled, crossing his arms.

  “Trust him like he’s always trusted you,” Sophie said with a wealth of meaning in her voice. Marco winked at her, appreciating her support. Though he had a feeling she was indirectly sticking up for Theia as much as she was for him. She credited Theia for Marco’s improved relationship with their mother.

  “Don’t think I didn’t catch the wink. I know what’s going on—”

  Marco picked up a mint and lobbed it at Liam’s head to shut him up before Theia overheard him. If he didn’t know better, he’d say his best friend was jealous of Theia. Maybe he felt like he’d been demoted to second-string. Marco could sympathize. He’d felt the same when Liam and Sophie got together.

  “What’s wrong?” his sister asked, casting him a worried frown.

  “What’s wrong is he shot a mint at my head.”

  Sophie sighed. “Not with you, with my brother. Look how pale he is.”

  Damn straight Marco was pale. He’d just realized what his inner dialogue said about him and Theia. He was thinking/acting like they were a done deal, like she was his plus one. His soul mate, his one true love, and all the other crap Rosa had been spouting for the past decade.

  “I knew something was wrong with you. I told you he wasn’t acting like himself. When are you going to realize I know him better than you do?” Liam reached over to feel Marco’s forehead. “You don’t have a fever. Are you—?”

  “I’m not sick, amico.” Lovesick maybe, but he didn’t want Liam to faint, especially now that Theia had returned to the table. “Are you ready to leave?”

  “No. We haven’t danced…” Liam scowled. “I thought you were talking to me and your sister.”

  “Are you pouting?” Marco asked, sincerely shocked at how Liam was acting. Marco wasn’t a serial dater, but he dated quite a bit. He’d also had a couple of long-term relationships, and not once had Liam acted this way. Marco almost laughed. If he needed another sign that Theia might be the woman for him, he had a feeling his best friend had provided it.

  “I’m not pouting. It was a moue face.”

  Sophie looked at her husband. “A moue face is a pouty face. And, honey, it’s not a good look for you.”

  “It’s not a pouty face. It’s a…a judgy face. He’s one of the groomsmen. It looks bad if he leaves this early.”

  Marco started to laugh, and every time he tried to stop, he thought of Liam saying moue face and pouty face and laughed harder. His sister joined in.

  “Okay, you two can stop now.” Liam looked around. “No, I’m serious. You’re drowning out the best man. See, you missed the announcement. They’re doing the garter toss and then throwing the bouquet. Never mind, you guys wouldn’t be…”

  Marco got up from the table, mostly to mess with his best friend’s head. He pulled out a chair for Theia and said, “Sit. I’ll be right back.” He gave her a kiss that had Liam groaning and Marco lifting his head to say, “Get over it. I had to put up with you two.”

  Once out on the dance floor, Marco considered letting the lacy blue garter sail by, but he was too competitive and caught it. After accepting some good-natured ribbing from the other single guys on the floor, he said a couple of words to the groom, kissed the bride, and then walked back to the table. “Get up there,” he said to Theia when they announced the bouquet toss.

  “No. I need to…” She groaned when she saw her sister Daphne weaving her way through the tables toward them.

  “Come on, big sis. Let’s show these ladies how it’s done.” Daphne pulled Theia to her feet.

  Marco smiled, watching the sisters squabble as they walked toward the dance floor. “Pen.” Daphne waved their other sister over, laughing when the good-looking guy Penelope was standing with put a possessive arm around her shoulders.

  Sophie smiled. “It looks like we might have a vow renewal at the manor.”

  “Is that Penelope’s husband?” Marco asked.

  His sister nodded. “Theia flew him in from LA yesterday. She kept the twins with her last night so their parents could have a romantic evening.”

  He raised his eyebrows at Liam, making a point. Family was as important to her as it was to them.

  “Fine. She’s a saint.” Liam glanced at the dance floor, fighting a grin. “A saint who just took out her sister and two bridesmaids to catch the bouquet. She either wants to get married really bad or she’s as competitive as you are.”

  “She’s ten times more competitive than me,” Marco said, laughing when she shoved the bouquet at her sister. He stood up. “I said my goodbyes to the bride and groom, so if you two don’t have any objections, I’m going to take Theia home.”

  “Good idea,” his sister said. “She must be wiped. The twins were awake half the night saying they wanted to play with the ghost, and then they got up at five this morning. She’ll probably fall asleep before her head hits the pillow.”

  He looked at his best friend, who started to laugh.

  “Must have been a good joke,” Theia said when Marco linked his fingers with hers.

  “Liam thinks so. Do you feel like heading out, or do you have to stick around?”

  “I’m good to go. Penelope’s husband offered to take over for me. They owe me big-time for last night.”

  So much for his hopes that his sister had been yanking his chain. “So I heard.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Let me guess. Liam finds it hysterical that you may not get lucky tonight because I’m too tired.”

  “Got it in one.”

  She nodded. “Just a sec.” She walked back to the table and bent to whisper in Liam’s ear. Liam covered his face with one hand, looked through his fingers at Marco, and shook his head with a grin.

  “What did you say to him?” Marco asked when she returned to his side to take his hand.

  “I reminded him what kind of training I had as a fighter pilot. I can go on very little sleep.”

  “You’re bad,” he said.

  “Or very, very good. Depends how you look at it.”

  “Either works for me.” He waited until they were out of sight of the tent and wedding guests to take her in his arms. “I told you you’re beautiful, and I told you I missed you, and you obviously have a good idea I want to be with you, but what I didn’t say is I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left that night. I should have given you a chance to tell your side. I should have trusted that in the end you would do the honorable thing.”

  “You’re giving me too much credit. The honorable thing would have been to quit my job last year when Caine asked me to go undercover at the manor. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I promised Daniel I wouldn’t tell anyone, but you were—you are—more than just anyone to me.”

  He kissed her long and deep and would have kept kissing her if he didn’t get the feeling the entire wedding was walking past them. He lifted his head and looked around. They were. He realized why when the sky over the water lit up. The bride’s special request had been fireworks. Her firefighter groom had given the idea a thumbs-down because they were a fire h
azard, acquiescing only when the manor agreed to set them off on a barge. “Let’s go to my place and set off a few fireworks of our own.”

  Early the next morning, Marco woke up to what sounded like fireworks going off in his apartment. The reality was much worse: His grandmother was pounding on his door.

  Theia lifted her head from his chest. “Can she get in?”

  As if in answer to her question, he heard Rosa open the door with a key, only to be stopped by the chain lock he’d thought to engage last night. “No, but we’ll be able to hear her.”

  They were. But never in his life did he expect to hear her wail, “Murder. He murdered amore mio.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Theia grabbed a quick shower while Marco tried to calm his grandmother down long enough to be able to understand her. Theia put on his white robe and then pulled a towel off the rack, straining to hear what was going on outside the bedroom door as she towel dried her hair. She stuck her head out of the en suite bathroom before walking into Marco’s bedroom.

  She hadn’t gotten a good look at the room or the apartment last night. Her mind, mouth, and hands had been a little preoccupied. All she really cared about at the time was his bed. It met all her criteria: big with a good mattress and fresh-smelling sheets. Now, in the early-morning light, she saw that his room did too.

  It looked like a guy’s room, but not a frat boy’s room. Functional but not cold and austere like her apartment. His comfortable king-size mattress sat in a sleek steel-gray bedframe, a moody seascape over the bed, a Berber area rug on the wide-planked hardwood floor, and thick wooden shelves on either side of the bed that served as nightstands with sleek reading lamps screwed into the walls above them. From the stacks of books on his nightstands, the reading lamps weren’t for show. She checked out some of the titles and smiled. He wasn’t just a handsome face.

  At the sound of a muffled cell phone ring, she looked at the mattress. As it continued to ring, she lifted the sheets to look under the bed. The ringing grew louder, but there was still no sign of her phone. Then it stopped ringing.

  Somewhere in the apartment another phone began to ring. Theia continued her search to the sound of Rosa wailing, which was quickly followed by Marco trying to calm her down. He sounded frustrated at his inability to comfort his grandmother, and Theia decided it was her duty as his girlfriend to offer support. Now she had to find her clothes. And her phone, she thought when it began to ring again. In the other room, someone else’s did too.

  She spotted a pile of clothes on the other side of the bed. Warm, she thought as the ringing grew louder. She crouched beside the tangled heap of both their clothes and found her phone in his jacket pocket. He’d insisted she wear it on the walk to his place last night.

  “Hey, what’s up?” she asked, taking Daphne’s call. She frowned as the voices outside the bedroom grew in number and volume. If she wasn’t mistaken, there were several angry women now in the apartment. They were also speaking in Italian.

  “Why didn’t you answer your phone? We’ve been calling you nonstop for the last twenty minutes.”

  “Sorry. I was in the shower. What’s going on?”

  “You haven’t heard? I had visions of the DiRossis chasing you down Main Street with pizza pans.”

  Theia bowed her head. What now? she wondered, and then she remembered Ryan Wilson’s threat. “Did something happen to Jasper? Is he okay?”

  “How did you…? Never mind. No, he’s not okay. He’s in jail. The police arrested him this morning for the murder of Antonio DiRossi, Rosa’s husband.”

  It was a good thing she was crouched on the floor because it wasn’t far to land on her bottom. The day Jasper picked her up on the side of the road, he’d said the truth would come out before this was over. This couldn’t be what he meant. She didn’t believe it.

  “He didn’t do it,” she said as she moved off the floor to sit at the end of the bed. “Kitty and Rosa are best friends. There’s no way Jasper killed her husband.”

  “This didn’t happen recently. It happened close to half a century ago.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I don’t believe he did it.”

  “Word of advice, until you get back to the manor, I wouldn’t be sharing your opinion. Right now you’re in enemy territory. The lines have been drawn in the sand. Gallaghers on one side, DiRossis on the other.”

  Daphne had to be wrong. Theia wouldn’t—couldn’t—let her mind go to where this would come between her and Marco. “Don’t be crazy. Sophie and Ava—”

  “Have had issues with Jasper in the past, from what I understand. Now he’s accused of killing Sophie’s grandfather and Ava’s uncle. They both took off from here fifteen minutes ago. I’m surprised they haven’t shown up at Rosa’s.”

  Theia listened more closely to the voices. “They’re here. At Marco’s. I’m in his bedroom.”

  “I’d stay there until the coast is clear.”

  Theia hoped Daphne was just being dramatic. But instead of worrying about the implications for her relationship with Marco, she focused on what they could do for the man she’d grown fond of. A man who, for all intents and purposes, was their step-grandfather. They needed to launch a strong defense. They’d prove to everyone he didn’t do it, and they’d all be okay. “I know you’re a divorce attorney, but you’re also brilliant and ballsy. You need to get to the police station and protect Jasper’s rights.”

  “Aw, thanks, sis,” she said, and then the sweetness in her voice turned sour. “But I already tried and was told my services weren’t required.”

  “Who told you that?” she asked, ticked on her sister’s behalf.

  “Our cousins. Two of whom are attorneys, just like their father.” Daphne sighed. “You know what? They’re excellent lawyers and have more experience than I do. It’s just that the way they reacted to my offer hurt. It felt like neither our opinions or concerns matter because we didn’t grow up here and don’t know Jasper as well as they do.”

  She could identify a little too well with how Daphne felt. “We’ll see about that. I’m going to the station.”

  “You won’t beat anyone up on my behalf, will you?” Theia heard the smile in her sister’s voice.

  “I might if I don’t get a coffee before I leave.” She figured the breakfast in bed Marco had promised her last night was canceled. She hoped their relationship wasn’t. It looked like she was about to find out, she thought when Marco opened the door to his bedroom.

  “I’ve gotta go. I’ll call you back.” He wore a white T-shirt with a pair of black sweatpants. Not more than forty minutes ago she’d had high hopes of tearing off his clothes and picking up where they had left off at three this morning.

  He looked from her face to her phone. “You heard?”

  She nodded and patted the mattress. “How’s Rosa?”

  He sat beside her, dragging a hand down his face. “Shocked, hysterical, furious. It’s difficult to pinpoint an exact emotion at any given moment.”

  “How are you doing?” she asked, linking her fingers with his.

  “It’s tough. I don’t know what to do or say to make her feel better. You read about things like this happening, hear about it, but you never think it can happen to you or your family. I’ve known Jasper for most of my life, and to think he murdered my grandfather…”

  She didn’t think she’d made a sound or reacted in any way, but she must have because he looked at her and said, “You don’t believe he did, do you?”

  “I…No, I don’t.” He went to pull his hand away, and she tightened her grip. “That’s not fair. You asked me a question, and I answered. You can’t pull away from me. Last night we promised each other we’d tell the truth whether we wanted to hear it or not.”

  “I didn’t need to hear it right now.”

  “You’re mad at me.”

  “No. I’m mad at the situation. We’re going to be on opposite sides of this, and I’m afraid it’s going to get ugly.”

  “It do
esn’t have to. We don’t have to let it.”

  “Really? Maybe you can explain to me exactly how we’re supposed to do that when…”

  She was about to respond until she noticed the doorknob turning. “Marco, we should talk about this later.”

  But obviously he was on a roll because he talked over her. “…you believe the man who was arrested for my grandfather’s murder is innocent, Theia?”

  Rosa strode into the room. “You believe a murderer over my grandson? Over the police? You know nothing! You—”

  “Ma, stop. Theia is entitled—”

  “No. She’s entitled to nothing. She’s a Gallagher. I want her out. I want her out of my house.” She grabbed Theia’s clothes and shoved them at her. “Go.”

  Marco put out his hand to stop her from getting up. “Theia, you don’t have to—”

  “No. It’s okay,” she said, and stood. “I’m sorry, Mrs. DiRossi. I didn’t mean to upset you.” She took Rosa by the arm and guided her to the bed.

  Looking frail and disheveled, Rosa sat beside her grandson. She leaned her head against Marco’s shoulder and began to softly weep.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Thank the good Lord and the Holy Ghost, Colleen thought as Theia strode into the manor. Her sisters, apparently as relieved as Colleen, shot off the couch in the lobby where they’d been awaiting her return.

  “Where have you been? I called you more than two hours ago,” Daphne said as she hurried up the steps to the entryway. She didn’t give Theia a chance to answer. Grabbing her by the hand, she dragged her down the hall toward the library.

  “At the station.” Theia tugged her hand from her sister’s. “Look, I don’t have time to sit around talking about this. I have to…There’s something I need to do.”

  “Stop with the I’s. You have us—sisters, a family. And that means when there’s a family crisis, we deal with it together.”

  “Daphne’s right, Theia. The past few days, working together, hanging out together, not to mention all the times you guys have helped me out with the boys, it’s meant a lot to me. We kind of lost out in the father department, but it doesn’t matter because we have each other now. And I for one think we won out in the sisters department.”